Generous Leadership:
My Grant Tinker Story
When I was twenty-four years old, after getting my master’s degree in communications from the State University of New York at Albany and then working for a year in the media buying department of Ogilvy & Mather advertising, I made the life-altering decision to move from New York to Los Angeles to pursue my dream of working in the entertainment industry.
I’d been an intern for NBC at Rockefeller Center while in college during the summer of 1984, and my vision, since I was a kid, had always been to work for NBC—the network of Cheers, Family Ties, L.A. Law, and so many other hit shows. How exciting it will be, I would say to myself, to someday see that iconic, multicolored NBC peacock printed on my paycheck.
Unfortunately, however, despite applying for one job after another, I just kept receiving one rejection letter after another, not only from NBC but from every other TV network and production company in New York City. I soon realized that if I was really serious about pursuing a career in television, I would have to head out west. In the most difficult and scariest decision I had made in my life, I shocked my parents, myself, and even my dog by giving my two weeks’ notice and heading for Hollywood.
With two suitcases in hand, a couple of hundred dollars to my name, no job, no leads, and no contacts out there, my parents dropped me off at JFK airport. After a tearful farewell, I headed for my American Airlines flight to LAX, unsure now of whether I was making the right decision. With reality starting to sink in, I approached the gate with my hands shaking, my heart pounding, and my head spinning with self-doubt and second thoughts. But realizing that there was no turning back now, I boarded the plane.
I started to make my way down the aisle through first class, toward my coach seat way in the back. A white-haired businessman was blocking my path. As I stood there impatiently, waiting to get by, he finally turned around to take his cushy, luxurious aisle seat, at which point I froze in place: It was Grant Tinker…the chairman and CEO of, yes, NBC!
Fast-forward to two hours, then three hours into the five-hour flight. I’m still debating with myself: Should I go up and talk to him, or should I not? Will I be bothering him if I do; or will I kick myself in regret for all eternity if I don’t? Should I casually stroll by his seat, pretending that I am just stretching my legs and then “accidentally” drop one of my résumés onto his lap? Will he then be so impressed with my background that he offers me a job on the spot; or will he forever ban me from NBC for having the audacity to be such a clueless idiot? Three times I go up and peek through the first class curtain, only to chicken out and scurry back to my seat.
Then, finally, with less than an hour to go before we land, it’s now or never, do or die. So, somehow, despite my being the most introverted of introverts, I summon up the courage and the audacity, and, almost without even thinking, I just do it: I march down the coach cabin aisle, through the first class curtain, stop at his row, turn towards him and, in one long, rambling, run-on sentence, just start spouting out the words that I had been rehearsing and revising in my head for the past four hours:
“Excuse me, Mr. Tinker…I hate to bother you. I was an intern at NBC in New York last summer, and the reason I’m even on this flight is because I’m moving out to L.A. to try to get a job in the TV industry—hopefully at NBC—though I’m open to any opportunities… Again, I’m sorry to bother you, but I was wondering if you might have a minute to give me some advice or anything that would help point me in the right direction.”
After what seems like a painful, awkward, five-minute pause (though it was probably only a couple of seconds), he smiles, gets up from his big, cushiony aisle seat, moves over to the window seat, reaches out to shake my hand, and says, “Sure, sit down for a minute. What’s your name?”
Wow.
So, there I was: twenty-four years old, unemployed, and possessing nothing but a dream, sitting there in first class, chatting about work and life with the head of NBC.
Without going into all of the details of what he had to say, the bottom line was that the CEO of the number one television network (and, by the way, the former husband of the amazing Mary Tyler Moore) generously took five minutes of his valuable time and attention to share the wisdom of his experience, and a few invaluable words of advice—as well as his business card—with a young, aspiring, relatively clueless and obviously overreaching job seeker.
As it turned out, despite my best efforts I never did end up working for NBC, but I left that brief, unforgettable conversation on an emotional high, beaming with hope and optimism…along with the confidence and self-assurance that I had, indeed, made the right career and life decision.
And though I am 99.9 percent certain that Mr. Tinker (who passed away just a few years ago) most likely would not have recalled that brief interaction, the leadership lessons that he left me with—through both his powerful words and his incredibly kind and generous actions—still resonate with me all these years later. And, for that, I am forever grateful.
In Review
The Big Lesson: So many life and leadership lessons packed into this one small story! Mr. Tinker’s small act of ego-free humility and generosity of spirit reminds me that you are never too big to remember where you came from and help those who aspire to follow in your footsteps—even when you are the head of a TV network and flying in first class. And, from my younger self, finding the courage to push beyond one’s comfort zone and into “the Zone of the Unknown” can have huge payoffs. After all…what do you have to lose?
The Big Question: What lessons in leadership and in life do you take from this story—from either my actions, or from Grant Tinker’s—and what might you do differently in the future as a result?
Your Big Insight:
Your Big Action: